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Some runners swear by the purity of listening to nothing but the sound of their feet pounding the pavement. Feeling one with nature, at peace, all that.
Me, I’ve been the music-blasting/ run-to-the-beat type from day one. First, holding a bulky Walkman (or clipping it to my sweatpants, but then I’d have to tie a shirt on top of it because it bounced too much).
In fact… today is your lucky day, because I still have that thing and have risked life and limb to retrieve it from its top-shelf placement in the garage:
And – ohmigod! – the last cassette I ran to was still in it!
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